This is just a brief note to let you know that Ben is doing beautifully. He is cheerful and happy. His pain is minimal. He only needed meds twice today and even then, it was not to deal with overwhelming pain. We're not going out, or driving in the car (the travel-home day, Monday, was more than enough of that for a while!). And no hikes or carrying things or bending over. (We learned our lesson last time.)
But, video games, Scrubs, bowls of pasta and slices of pizza, and many rounds of Quiddler and Yahtzee with the family seem to be bringing our boy back into the land of the hale and healthy!
Oh, and a new charger for his cell phone (his old one was left at the Ritz). How's a boy supposed to communicate with all his "homies" with a dead phone? The horror!
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
happy, healing boy
Ben and I texted each other yesterday morning. He didn't feel very good. He seemed pretty blue. Not that that should be surprising.
They'd moved from the hospital to the hotel the day before and he'd felt really crummy the rest of that day. Hadn't eaten anything except a breakfast of French toast ("It was surprisngly good.") in the hospital. I'd talked to him on the phone in the late afternoon (here)/early evening (there) and his voice was so weak and creaky.
"Hi Mommy."
"Hi Baby. How are you feeling?"
"Really bad."
"I'm so sorry, hon. I'm so sorry you have to feel this way. You'll feel better tomorrow."
I got off the phone and turned to my own mom (I was sitting in her kitchen) and said, "It's so unfair he has to go through this over and over and over." I felt a wave of self-pity and pity for Ben. Why? Why eight surgeries? Why repeated experiences with pain and medications and recovery? To what (ultimate, greater, existential) purpose?
People have told me "It will make him strong as an adult." Yeah, but guess what, he might have been strong anyways. And you know what else? Put your kid under a surgeon's knife 10, 12 times before he's 20 (it will more than likely be that, by the way) and have him sleep in a hospital bed 50, 60 nights before he's 20 (he's already hit 48) and see if that "strength in adulthood" consoles you.
Odd, when I started writing today I didn't realize I was angry.
I was actually going to tell you that later yesterday, after the morning's blue text exchange, Ben called home.
"Hi Mom!"
"Hi! What's up? How's it going?"
"I'm feeling great! And I looked in the mirror and I really think I'm taller now!"
"Wow! That's awesome. I'm pretty sure you must be. Dr. C really got some great extension this time, right?"
"And my curve is 25 degrees! I've been walking around and I ate some Thai curry chicken soup. I'm feeling so much better."
I swear he sounded better than he's sounded in months. Chipper mood, bouncy, bright. A totally different voice. Like a new man.
Did I tell you that after the phone call from my mom's kitchen Mark texted me this: "Post call FYI: he was way better 5 min before and 5 min after your call. Not better, but not as bad. It's great to be a mom." Well, I knew that. Really I did. Mamas get the unfettered emotion. The raw "I feel lousy" stream of whining. It's our job to receive it, especially after our child's 48th night in a hospital bed. Especially when you're way the hell across the country and not by his bedside, where you should be.
But it felt so good to hear that bright and chipper boy on the other end of the phone. It certainly washed away my blues.
Can't wait to see him tomorrow night. And give him a gentle mama's hug.
They'd moved from the hospital to the hotel the day before and he'd felt really crummy the rest of that day. Hadn't eaten anything except a breakfast of French toast ("It was surprisngly good.") in the hospital. I'd talked to him on the phone in the late afternoon (here)/early evening (there) and his voice was so weak and creaky.
"Hi Mommy."
"Hi Baby. How are you feeling?"
"Really bad."
"I'm so sorry, hon. I'm so sorry you have to feel this way. You'll feel better tomorrow."
I got off the phone and turned to my own mom (I was sitting in her kitchen) and said, "It's so unfair he has to go through this over and over and over." I felt a wave of self-pity and pity for Ben. Why? Why eight surgeries? Why repeated experiences with pain and medications and recovery? To what (ultimate, greater, existential) purpose?
People have told me "It will make him strong as an adult." Yeah, but guess what, he might have been strong anyways. And you know what else? Put your kid under a surgeon's knife 10, 12 times before he's 20 (it will more than likely be that, by the way) and have him sleep in a hospital bed 50, 60 nights before he's 20 (he's already hit 48) and see if that "strength in adulthood" consoles you.
Odd, when I started writing today I didn't realize I was angry.
I was actually going to tell you that later yesterday, after the morning's blue text exchange, Ben called home.
"Hi Mom!"
"Hi! What's up? How's it going?"
"I'm feeling great! And I looked in the mirror and I really think I'm taller now!"
"Wow! That's awesome. I'm pretty sure you must be. Dr. C really got some great extension this time, right?"
"And my curve is 25 degrees! I've been walking around and I ate some Thai curry chicken soup. I'm feeling so much better."
I swear he sounded better than he's sounded in months. Chipper mood, bouncy, bright. A totally different voice. Like a new man.
Did I tell you that after the phone call from my mom's kitchen Mark texted me this: "Post call FYI: he was way better 5 min before and 5 min after your call. Not better, but not as bad. It's great to be a mom." Well, I knew that. Really I did. Mamas get the unfettered emotion. The raw "I feel lousy" stream of whining. It's our job to receive it, especially after our child's 48th night in a hospital bed. Especially when you're way the hell across the country and not by his bedside, where you should be.
But it felt so good to hear that bright and chipper boy on the other end of the phone. It certainly washed away my blues.
Can't wait to see him tomorrow night. And give him a gentle mama's hug.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
touching a nerve
Of all things, I had to have an emergency crown set today at the dentist's office. The culprit, a cracked molar, started giving me trouble on Tuesday and luckily, I squeezed into Dr. McN's schedule before he left for a week off.
Not a great day to have a painful procedure. But I didn't have much choice.
It just so happened that at one point early in the procedure Dr. McN hit the crack with his drill and pain sizzled into my numb jaw. I jumped. I waved my hand (as instructed). "Oww, that hurts!" I said. I had actually been trying to be brave. It had been hurting a little as he neared the really sensitive place and I had tried to hold it together. But when he hit that crack it hurt so much. It was a zing not just to the nerve but to my whole confidence and composure. I suddenly was holding tears back and trying to breathe. I imagined myself at the end of the procedure going to sit in my car and having a really good cry.
About Ben, of course.
I talked to Mark after Ben came out of surgery and found out that Dr. C had gotten tremendous correction (we'll know more tomorrow). That is excellent news. Last time he got only a little and it seemed so much to do for so little a difference. Having a big adjustment is more bang for your buck, I guess. But, big adjustment also means big pain.
Think about this: They go in, move around his muscles, tendons, ligaments. They mess with the ribs, unscrewing the rod. They use pressure and gentle force to move his spine into a straighter position. They tighten the screws. They get out. And, of course, getting in requires an incision and getting out, stitches. That's a lot, for a "minor" surgery.
The after-effect of all this moving around is heavy duty muscle spasms. They come on if he's pushed or poked (think overzealous friends or brothers). They come from nowhere too. They're like Charlie horses in his back. Not easy to deal with. I'm getting myself prepared.
As for me, a second shot of Lydocaine and I was good for the rest of the dental appointment. I sat there in the mint green dental chair, listening to James Taylor, Carole King, and Crosby, Stills & Nash flowing in from the ceiling (ah well, some of my favorites are now dentist office music, sigh) and I breathed as deeply as possible. I didn't try to be too brave, just enough. It really didn't hurt any more after that one zinger. Not really.
When I got out to the car I didn't break down. I did call Mark and Ben as soon as I got into cell phone range (my dentist is in Occidental and there's ZERO coverage there). Ben felt horrible, and not just very, very bad, but really quite sincerely bad. So bad that he suddenly had to get off the phone and Mark said, "We'll call you back!!" and hung up so fast I felt that zing again. Right to the bone.
I took a deep breath. I went to pick up Toby at Shawna's house. Mark called back and told me things had improved. Shawna gave me gluten-free gingerbread she'd baked. I washed the horrible taste of dental cement out of my mouth.
Now, hours later my jaw is hurting. And now, I'm feeling how hard it is, and how hard it was last time, to be 3000 miles away from my boy when he's hurting.
Not a great day to have a painful procedure. But I didn't have much choice.
It just so happened that at one point early in the procedure Dr. McN hit the crack with his drill and pain sizzled into my numb jaw. I jumped. I waved my hand (as instructed). "Oww, that hurts!" I said. I had actually been trying to be brave. It had been hurting a little as he neared the really sensitive place and I had tried to hold it together. But when he hit that crack it hurt so much. It was a zing not just to the nerve but to my whole confidence and composure. I suddenly was holding tears back and trying to breathe. I imagined myself at the end of the procedure going to sit in my car and having a really good cry.
About Ben, of course.
I talked to Mark after Ben came out of surgery and found out that Dr. C had gotten tremendous correction (we'll know more tomorrow). That is excellent news. Last time he got only a little and it seemed so much to do for so little a difference. Having a big adjustment is more bang for your buck, I guess. But, big adjustment also means big pain.
Think about this: They go in, move around his muscles, tendons, ligaments. They mess with the ribs, unscrewing the rod. They use pressure and gentle force to move his spine into a straighter position. They tighten the screws. They get out. And, of course, getting in requires an incision and getting out, stitches. That's a lot, for a "minor" surgery.
The after-effect of all this moving around is heavy duty muscle spasms. They come on if he's pushed or poked (think overzealous friends or brothers). They come from nowhere too. They're like Charlie horses in his back. Not easy to deal with. I'm getting myself prepared.
As for me, a second shot of Lydocaine and I was good for the rest of the dental appointment. I sat there in the mint green dental chair, listening to James Taylor, Carole King, and Crosby, Stills & Nash flowing in from the ceiling (ah well, some of my favorites are now dentist office music, sigh) and I breathed as deeply as possible. I didn't try to be too brave, just enough. It really didn't hurt any more after that one zinger. Not really.
When I got out to the car I didn't break down. I did call Mark and Ben as soon as I got into cell phone range (my dentist is in Occidental and there's ZERO coverage there). Ben felt horrible, and not just very, very bad, but really quite sincerely bad. So bad that he suddenly had to get off the phone and Mark said, "We'll call you back!!" and hung up so fast I felt that zing again. Right to the bone.
I took a deep breath. I went to pick up Toby at Shawna's house. Mark called back and told me things had improved. Shawna gave me gluten-free gingerbread she'd baked. I washed the horrible taste of dental cement out of my mouth.
Now, hours later my jaw is hurting. And now, I'm feeling how hard it is, and how hard it was last time, to be 3000 miles away from my boy when he's hurting.
text me you love me
About a month ago we broke the news to Ben that we had a surgery date for his next lengthening. We softened the blow by telling him in the very next breath that we were (finally) getting him a phone. He'd been begging us for one for months because 1) Harry got one and 2) he needed one to text his friends. (Yes, phones are for texting even more than talking with the teen crowd, don't you know.) As with almost all the technology that I have been resistant to (and to which I have finally caved due to pressure from my children), I have found that texting is an amazing form of communication and has opened up doorways between us.
There is a beauty in the brevity of text messages. Had we not been texting, I'm sure we would have chatted a few times on Mark's phone. But all my boys (Mark included) are reticent to chat on the phone, so that call would have felt more awkward. Via text Ben was open to joking, being sweet, being vulnerable, and being present up until the very last moment when (I imagine) he hit send and handed Mark his phone and was promptly wheeled away. And, I have a record of it on my phone to look at and remember.
I've (laboriously) typed it all up for you here and I've left it pretty much as is (spelling mistakes and shorthand left intact). The incredible sweetness of my boy is palpable. It's like poetry. Well, maybe just for me. (I should tell you, especially if you're not familiar with texting, that sometimes the messages seem out of order since I might be texting him a response while he's texting another comment. You might have to jump back and forth a bit to get the drift.)
You can see that Ben was in fantastically light spirits (confirmed by a phone call from Mark right after he was taken into the OR). This surgery is only the second in his memory that is "minor," although, remember they are going all the way to his ribs to do the adjustment. Minor is relative, yes? Anyhow, it is a short surgery comparatively (2 hours) and that is a huge difference for him. Having the knowledge that he got through the last one fairly easily and was out of the hospital in 13 hours, I believe made all the difference.
So here you have it, for posterity...my text conversation with Ben in the early hours of today.
ME: Just want u to know I woke up and am thinking abt u
BEN: Hi mommy
ME: Hi hon...how ya doin?
BEN: Good i slept very nicely
ME: Excellent you're such a trouper
BEN: :)
ME: R u in the taxi?
BEN: Yes
ME: Ok that's what i thought. What's the weather like?
BEN: Blue skys with a couple of clouds
ME: Sounds nice. It rained here most of the day yesterday. Dark now of course. It's 3:37 am!
BEN: Haha
ME: It was weird...I just woke up a few minutes ago...no alarm or anything, like my body just knew u were awake and on your way so I should wake up
BEN: I woke up 2 minutes before my alarm went off
ME: Yeah. Sometimes there's like a sixth sense
BEN: Its like my body just new that i should be up u know?
ME: Yep same with mine
BEN: It was weird
ME: I know I couldn't see a clock so I had to turn on my phone and I went "hey perfect timing! Ben's gonna be up now too"
BEN: Wow thats cool
ME: I used to wake up in the middle of the night every night, but I haven't for a while now. That's what made this really diff for me.
BEN: O
ME: I just want to send u a big hug
BEN: thanks
ME: I love u so much
BEN: I luv u 2 mom <3 [heart on its side]
ME: <3
xoxoxox ((((you)))) [hugs around Ben]
BEN: :)
We are almost at the hospital
ME: I was just going to ask
We'll text more later
BEN: K we are there
ME: Love u!!!!!
BEN: I luv u 2
ME: xoxoxox
BEN: :)
ME: Toby just giggled in his sleep!
BEN: Wow thats kinda creepy
ME: I guess he's having a funny dream...I'll have to ask him about it in the a.m.
BEN: I just got my wrist band and we are going into the elevator
ME: Ok tlk [talk] later
BEN: Kk [Okay]
They just took my whigh [weight] and i whigh [weigh]128
ME: Congrats. :)
BEN: :(
BEN: There about to come get me for surgery
ME: Ok I love u!!! How r u?
BEN: Good me and dad watched very funny tv
ME: sorry u had to wait so long
BEN: Its ok actually it was nice
ME: Excellent! You're gonna do great and I'll talk to u when u get out
I'm so proud of u
BEN: Ok
ME: It helps knowing what to expect
Doesn't it?
BEN: I like the shoe sock things there comfy
And yes
ME: Great get a few before u leave
BEN: To take home i like socks much better than these
ME: Oh whatevah
No iv yet?
BEN: Ya anyways mom i luv u vry much
ME: I adore u
BEN: Nope get that in surgery
ME: xoxoxox
Ok
(((((hugs from me to u))))))
xxxxxxxsmoochxxxxxx
BEN: (RE: ((((hugs from me to u) K im in the bed
ME: Oh thought u were already
BEN: Im a little nervous
Bye mom ttyl [talk to you later] luv u
ME: That's to be expected
Bye!!!!!
I luv u!!!!!
Ttyl
BEN: Hiya mom it turns out that i only was going down to talk to the docters and i'll be under in 15 mins so hows it going?
ME: Oh!!!! it's going fine!
I was sending you big blessings.
BEN: Thats nice im less nervous
ME: Amazing
BEN: Thank u
ME: How come d'you think?
BEN: Thats good
Huh?
ME: How come youre less nervous?
BEN: I dont know everyones very confedent and calm
ME: That's great that u can take that in
What did the doctors say?
And did u have an xray this morning?
BEN: That im going to go in breathe then fall asleep and no
ME: Ok
Sounds easy
BEN: Yup im gonna be fine
ME: u definitely r
BEN: Yup u should take somthing to calm down
ME: And when u get out it's gonna be even easier then the last time
I'm calm, cuz u r
BEN: Yup
ME: I should say calmer
I was more nervous last time
But thx for thinking abt me
BEN: Still u should
ME: I'm fine, sweetie
Just lying in bed
Txting my boy
BEN: Hmm anyways calm down i can feel it in your txts
ME: Oh sorry I really am fine
Maybe I'm asking too many questions...?
BEN: Sure u r sure
ME: Lol
I wouldn't send u there if I didn't believe they would take excellent care of u
But really I'm just fine
BEN: Yeah
wel....................................................
ME: =)
BEN: Sure u r sure.......O.o
ME: 8)
:P
xoxoxox
BEN: jsshdikisabusukjkszdekjdszeksejzjzjedsmeds im not crazy BOOGA BOOGA MOOGALY tell that to tubs [Toby]
ME: Um...ok...when he wakes up.
BEN: Wait what time is it
ME: Hey! did they give u something to make u loopy? Cuz it suuuure seems like it!
7:33 am
BEN: No im just naturly crazy and oh thanks
ME: Too much time on your hands, it seems...
Hey u there?
BEN: Barely
I am about to go
i luv u soooooooooo much
ME: Ok I LOVE U
Love u more!!!
BEN: <3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 [32 lines long!]
ME: You're the best! xoxoxox
There is a beauty in the brevity of text messages. Had we not been texting, I'm sure we would have chatted a few times on Mark's phone. But all my boys (Mark included) are reticent to chat on the phone, so that call would have felt more awkward. Via text Ben was open to joking, being sweet, being vulnerable, and being present up until the very last moment when (I imagine) he hit send and handed Mark his phone and was promptly wheeled away. And, I have a record of it on my phone to look at and remember.
I've (laboriously) typed it all up for you here and I've left it pretty much as is (spelling mistakes and shorthand left intact). The incredible sweetness of my boy is palpable. It's like poetry. Well, maybe just for me. (I should tell you, especially if you're not familiar with texting, that sometimes the messages seem out of order since I might be texting him a response while he's texting another comment. You might have to jump back and forth a bit to get the drift.)
You can see that Ben was in fantastically light spirits (confirmed by a phone call from Mark right after he was taken into the OR). This surgery is only the second in his memory that is "minor," although, remember they are going all the way to his ribs to do the adjustment. Minor is relative, yes? Anyhow, it is a short surgery comparatively (2 hours) and that is a huge difference for him. Having the knowledge that he got through the last one fairly easily and was out of the hospital in 13 hours, I believe made all the difference.
So here you have it, for posterity...my text conversation with Ben in the early hours of today.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
[3:25 am]
BEN: Hi mommy
ME: Hi hon...how ya doin?
BEN: Good i slept very nicely
ME: Excellent you're such a trouper
BEN: :)
ME: R u in the taxi?
BEN: Yes
ME: Ok that's what i thought. What's the weather like?
BEN: Blue skys with a couple of clouds
ME: Sounds nice. It rained here most of the day yesterday. Dark now of course. It's 3:37 am!
BEN: Haha
ME: It was weird...I just woke up a few minutes ago...no alarm or anything, like my body just knew u were awake and on your way so I should wake up
BEN: I woke up 2 minutes before my alarm went off
ME: Yeah. Sometimes there's like a sixth sense
BEN: Its like my body just new that i should be up u know?
ME: Yep same with mine
BEN: It was weird
ME: I know I couldn't see a clock so I had to turn on my phone and I went "hey perfect timing! Ben's gonna be up now too"
BEN: Wow thats cool
ME: I used to wake up in the middle of the night every night, but I haven't for a while now. That's what made this really diff for me.
BEN: O
ME: I just want to send u a big hug
BEN: thanks
ME: I love u so much
BEN: I luv u 2 mom <3 [heart on its side]
ME: <3
xoxoxox ((((you)))) [hugs around Ben]
BEN: :)
We are almost at the hospital
ME: I was just going to ask
We'll text more later
BEN: K we are there
ME: Love u!!!!!
BEN: I luv u 2
ME: xoxoxox
BEN: :)
ME: Toby just giggled in his sleep!
BEN: Wow thats kinda creepy
ME: I guess he's having a funny dream...I'll have to ask him about it in the a.m.
[a little time passes]
ME: Ok tlk [talk] later
BEN: Kk [Okay]
They just took my whigh [weight] and i whigh [weigh]128
ME: Congrats. :)
BEN: :(
[Two hours pass, no texts, I slept]
BEN: There about to come get me for surgery
ME: Ok I love u!!! How r u?
BEN: Good me and dad watched very funny tv
ME: sorry u had to wait so long
BEN: Its ok actually it was nice
ME: Excellent! You're gonna do great and I'll talk to u when u get out
I'm so proud of u
BEN: Ok
ME: It helps knowing what to expect
Doesn't it?
BEN: I like the shoe sock things there comfy
And yes
ME: Great get a few before u leave
BEN: To take home i like socks much better than these
ME: Oh whatevah
No iv yet?
BEN: Ya anyways mom i luv u vry much
ME: I adore u
BEN: Nope get that in surgery
ME: xoxoxox
Ok
(((((hugs from me to u))))))
xxxxxxxsmoochxxxxxx
BEN: (RE: ((((hugs from me to u) K im in the bed
ME: Oh thought u were already
BEN: Im a little nervous
Bye mom ttyl [talk to you later] luv u
ME: That's to be expected
Bye!!!!!
I luv u!!!!!
Ttyl
[break of several minutes]
BEN: Hiya mom it turns out that i only was going down to talk to the docters and i'll be under in 15 mins so hows it going?
ME: Oh!!!! it's going fine!
I was sending you big blessings.
BEN: Thats nice im less nervous
ME: Amazing
BEN: Thank u
ME: How come d'you think?
BEN: Thats good
Huh?
ME: How come youre less nervous?
BEN: I dont know everyones very confedent and calm
ME: That's great that u can take that in
What did the doctors say?
And did u have an xray this morning?
BEN: That im going to go in breathe then fall asleep and no
ME: Ok
Sounds easy
BEN: Yup im gonna be fine
ME: u definitely r
BEN: Yup u should take somthing to calm down
ME: And when u get out it's gonna be even easier then the last time
I'm calm, cuz u r
BEN: Yup
ME: I should say calmer
I was more nervous last time
But thx for thinking abt me
BEN: Still u should
ME: I'm fine, sweetie
Just lying in bed
Txting my boy
BEN: Hmm anyways calm down i can feel it in your txts
ME: Oh sorry I really am fine
Maybe I'm asking too many questions...?
BEN: Sure u r sure
ME: Lol
I wouldn't send u there if I didn't believe they would take excellent care of u
[pause]
Well it's my job to be a little nervous!But really I'm just fine
BEN: Yeah
wel....................................................
ME: =)
BEN: Sure u r sure.......O.o
ME: 8)
:P
xoxoxox
BEN: jsshdikisabusukjkszdekjdszeksejzjzjedsmeds im not crazy BOOGA BOOGA MOOGALY tell that to tubs [Toby]
ME: Um...ok...when he wakes up.
BEN: Wait what time is it
ME: Hey! did they give u something to make u loopy? Cuz it suuuure seems like it!
7:33 am
BEN: No im just naturly crazy and oh thanks
ME: Too much time on your hands, it seems...
[long break during which I play Spider Solitaire on my iPhone]
Hey u there?
BEN: Barely
I am about to go
i luv u soooooooooo much
ME: Ok I LOVE U
Love u more!!!
BEN: <3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 [32 lines long!]
ME: You're the best! xoxoxox
Sunday, April 17, 2011
another surgery
This next surgery will be your eighth. (Started with a hernia at age 5, four brain surgeries/followups at age 8, the implantation of the rod and staples a year ago, and the first lengthening last summer.) Eighth. You have had more surgeries than most people have in a lifetime. A lot to hold. And this one won't even be the last.
So, if you've done this eight times then you know what to expect. You know that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you see the doors slide open to the hospital lobby as you climb out of the taxi. You know the flutter in your diaphragm when you put on your hospital gown and stow your things in the cabinet next to the bed. You've done this before. You lay down on the gurney in Anaesthesiology and watch the tiles on the ceiling, the lights and goofy posters on the walls slide by your vision as they wheel you away from your dad into the OR.
This operation is small potatoes compared with what you've experienced six of the eight times. Even the recovery is less work for you. But, you know the feeling coming out of the pain killers and it makes you tired, exhausted even, to contemplate another month passing by in your young life, a month of Valium and Hydrocodone and Ibuprofen keeping the edge off and the muscle spasms at bay. A month of shuffling around like an old man.
You're doing ok, though. You've chosen many days this past month to spend extra time in your jammies and wallow a bit in your life predicament. But for now, a few days before you say goodbye to your mom and brothers and head to the airport with your dad, you are upbeat, laughing at raunchy sitcoms and filling yourself with Indian food.
You are so strong and so fragile. You are only thirteen. Some boys at thirteen read from the Torah, their rite of passage to the next phase of their life. You, my son, you crossed that river years ago.
Weary traveller...blessings on this journey and may your doctor's hands be guided by the angels and may your healing be swift and easy.
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